My froat hurts. I hope I'm not coming down with Ted's cold. I have this sort of half-formed idea that if I drink enough orange juice, the owie of drinking the orange juice will strip away the owie of the sore throat and I'll miraculously be better. We do not, however, have that much orange juice.

The last day and a half I haven't wanted to do any work. Don't want to edit, don't want to respond to Chance emails, don't want to write, just don' wanna. This is probably mostly don't-want-to-edit based, and I've been editing even if I don't want to, because hey, that's my job.

Big goal today: finish the edits, at least on paper. Tonight, respond to Chance emails. In between, maybe go to the farmers' market...

No intent to chstise. Rather more a 'seize the day!' kind of a vibe. Sunshine instead of the dire awfulness of the forecast is a delight to my soul - which is just as well because I could not bear to inflict upon the blogosphere the whining about my unremittingly grey inner-day. Sunlight helps!

*grin* I didn't think you meant to chastise, but it did provide the impetus to get out of the damned house, which I really needed to do. I have to try to convince myself to do that again later this evening, because it really is so very beautiful out. (People with sore froats need to walk to the Londis for ice cream, right? O.O)

Of course, if you're really looking for good ice cream, you're much closer than I to the Best Ice Cream On The Planet, at Berthillon, in Paris. Sadly, they don't sell it outside of France, and they mostly don't sell it outside of Ile St. Louis.